


A floral shirt hides very little

by TenkeyLess



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, Estinien and Aymeric are unfairly handsome and horny for WoL, Everyone can have a small vacation, F/M, Fade to Black, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, PDA, Polyamory, Rough post 4.0 timeline, Summer, Unnamed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Vaginal Fingering, as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenkeyLess/pseuds/TenkeyLess
Summary: In a pleasant break after her greatest trials yet, the warrior of light finds her Elezen lovers finally within reach. This Moonfire Faire promises to be an alignment most rare as duty and freedom collide.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40
Collections: Summer Fic Exchange 2020





	A floral shirt hides very little

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lanico](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanico/gifts).



"Fancy seeing you here." Estinien's gruff voice speaks from behind you. Turning to face the dragoon, your eyes widen at his choice of attire. Clothed in what can only be Aymeric's wardrobe, he cuts a stunning view despite the utter incongruity of his outfit. A borel blue flower print shirt loosely billows in the La Noscean breeze. Unbuttoned, of course. Your eyes catch on the fine silver line of hair trailing down his navel, vanishing behind the black waistband of his swim trunks. His abs are mouthwateringly chiseled, firm muscle finally bare to your gaze without that damnably spiked armor in the way. Belatedly, you recall his greeting, and snap your gaze up to his where a sly smile awaits you.

"By all means, carry on admiring the view. Tis not as though there's cause to rush." Stretching languidly like a cat in the sun, Estinien shows off his hard-earned stature in a display that is surely profane. He shamelessly flexes, groaning sinfully as his back gives an audible _pop_. The flush on your face feels hot enough to rival Thanalan's noonday sun, cheeks alight with flustered desire. How _dare_ he openly seduce you in public.

"Estinien..." You growl, reaching out to snag his sleeve. He merely smirks, reaching down to claim your waist and propels you into walking side by side back to the beach proper.

The din of the Moonfire Faire drowns out the sounds of the sea, the crash of the waves and squawking of gulls subsumed by joyful cries and the crackle of fireworks. Scattered throughout the well-monitored crowd visiting dignitaries form small islands with their attaches and hangers on. Hien, from Doma, with a contingent of unseen shinobi. Lyse, from Ala Mhigo, with her fighters in Abanian green leisure clothes.

And there, maneuvering skillfully to the edge of the gathering to greet them, Aymeric.

He smiles to greet you, eyes soaking you in with the same vigor that the Ul'dahn delegation swig their colorful drinks behind him. Estinien's arm moves up to your shoulders, squeezing tight, before he departs to intercept the Lord Speaker. The men, _your_ men, exchange a knowing glance that has heat pooling in your navel. Pressing your thighs together in sudden discomfort, you nearly miss Estinien's salute as he ducks into the crowd. But you're not abandoned, not alone with your racing pulse. Smiling widely, Aymeric strides across the sand to meet you. Were he not a seasoned soldier at three decades and some years, he might have _skipped_ , wearing his excitement plainly for all to see.

" _Dear_ friend, full glad am I to see you here," He sweeps forward to gather you in a comforting embrace. "And in such -ahem- _good health_ no less."

You heat at his zealous tone, hiding your face in his bared chest. Convenient, to tuck your well-known visage into his loose shirt-a floral match to Estinien's. Warm, toned flesh a shade less severe than the dragoon's yields under your roving fingers, sneaking to encircle him beneath his shirt in an elated hug.

It feels like an age since you've seen Aymeric, the earnest Lord buried under paperwork unending. An age since you've been back to Ishgard, your chilly yet oh-so-welcoming home. Though, you muse as you spot Estinien securing a trio of drinks from the Faire's bustling bar, sometimes home comes to you. A gentle hum brings your attention back to the man watching you with an avid stare, his arms a cage from which you never wish to win free.

"Tataru insisted I dress to match the event. What do you think?" Locking eyes with Estinien over Aymeric's shoulder, you repay the dragoon's torment twofold. Your leg finds its way between Aymeric's, leaving you to straddle his barely clothed thigh. A wicked smile curls your lips as Aymeric's breath hitches, arrested at the press of your bare skin to his.

You are clothed--technically.

Tataru tackled the task of what to make you wear with an enthusiasm usually reserved for namedays and open bar bonding ceremonies. The resulting assortment of decorative chains and silken scraps is truly inspired work. For every ilm they cover, another is alluringly revealed. You chime softly with every movement, a soft chorus accompanying each step. And, when you grind lightly against Aymeric's broad thigh, your swimsuit _sings_.

"Halone's mercy--"

Whatever clever words the Speaker of Ishgard had gathered for you dissolve into the aether as he chokes. A strangled groan is your reward as you grope his ass, snapping his hips to yours, his leg a steadfast pillar to lean into.

Estinien, for his part, stands stock still amidst the crowd. His height affords him an unobstructed view of you practically nestled in Aymeric's lap. Ravenous, his gaze consumes the picture you two paint while his hands clench white knuckled around your drinks. You can see his throat bob, swallowing hard. Grinning at his all-too obvious reaction, you turn back to the man you're grinding on.

" _Oh_ , Aymeric." You sigh, whetting your dry lips. "Speechless, I see. Has my swimwear confounded you?"

You gasp as his broad hand settles snugly into the small of your back, anchoring you to his thigh. The firm length presses against you, obliging, in a tightly controlled round. It would seem the Lord Speaker is ready to return your earlier fluster tenfold. You barely manage to swallow a moan, his thigh pressing deliciously to your core.

"Not quite yet." He whispers, tilting his head to press a kiss to your forehead. "Though I shall make no promises should you visit the dignitaries quarters in such transfixing attire."

A feral hunger burns in his sapphire eyes, watching you as a hawk does a mouse. You find the means to grin back, equally famished for the Elezen lord. Traveling the width and breadth of Hydaelyn has served only to hone the desire you feel for both of the Elezen in your life.

"Harumph." Estinien grunts, indelicately shattering the moment. You both look to the grumpy dragoon, his mouth a dissatisfied, thin line around one of the more extravagantly looped straws. He slurps the drink and stares, two more drinks to match his in his other hand.

Aymeric yields first, chuckling and reaching out for the blue-strawed concoction. Sadly, you disengage from his thigh. Stepping back to brush what counts for your swimsuit into some semblance of decency, you pointedly ignore the wet patch on Aymeric's swim trunks. Another time, in a more discrete locale, you promise yourself. You chance to meet Aymeric's eyes as you claim your drink from Estinien and shiver at his half-lidded gaze. Clearly you are not the only one promising yourself a later, more thorough reunion. Joy and affection mingle freely in the smiles you offer each of them, looping your arms possessively through theirs.

"Then until it is permissible to retire, I require both of your company for the duration of the Faire. I presume that is agreeable?" Aymeric's smile spawns butterflies in your stomach, and Estinien's swipe at your backside sets your blood ablaze. Duly armed with an Elezen on either side, you spend the rest of the Moonfire Faire in a happy daze. Aymeric haggles the Lalafellin merchant for a free try at the games booth, and Estinien secures you a useful prize on his first attempt. Glowing with joy, heart buoyed by the lovely men escorting you, you almost wish the Faire would last forever.

Almost.

Heated glances and subtle touch remind you there are _other_ activities to look forward to this evening. After a particularly handsy interlude in the relative quiet between a pair of less trafficked booths, you curse propriety and call Tataru. Her linkpearl picks up just as Estinien's calloused fingers find their way to your dripping sex, delving below the band of your smallclothes. It would appear your swimwear is even more accessible than you had thought. Tataru's cheerful greeting is nearly lost in your need to moan, and you grab Estinien's wrist to buy you a much needed moment of focus before speaking up.

"Tataru? I know the party is scheduled to go until midnight but I've got, ah, _urgent business_ elsewhere. Cover for me if anyone asks?"

A knowing chuckle comes from her end of the line, your key phrase noticed by the keen lalafell.

"Of course! You enjoy your _business_ dear." The call cuts off mercifully swiftly, and Estinien frees his wrist to continue exploring below the pitiful band you call smallclothes in this outfit. Aymeric's amused chuckle vibrates through you, his chest flush to your back as he presses careful kisses along the open panels of your attire.

"Done with our torment so soon, dear friend?" He nuzzles a warm line along your neck, mouthing along your jaw, distressingly meticulous in his efforts to leave no mark. No visible ones, at any rate. "That the Warrior of Light should be brought low by our touch..."

He shivers, and you lean into him with a fond sigh. Estinien growls something inaudible and flicks his fingers along your sex, jolting you taut as a wire on Aymeric's chest. Tensing and relaxing you in turn, you're nearly on the crest of coming then and there between the Elezen before you manage to squeak out the request to retire elsewhere. They still at your hurried words, the hard arousal at your back an inarguable point that they are just as worked up as they've made you. Aymeric shifts, rubbing his hard length against the meager covering of your outfit with a longing sigh.

"As my lady wishes. The dignitary's accommodations are on the other end of the beach."

Estinien nips the curve of your hip, his bite hard enough to make you yelp, before rising to his full height.

"Aye, and only the bulk of the Faire between us and those tents. I did spy some coves on this end of the beach, however, if you two are not averse to a little sand."

Aymeric brightens at the alternative venue. He hooks his arm in yours, leaning over to croon in your ear.

"A small adventure between the three of us, then? If my lady should be agreeable."

Barely holding back from jumping the pair of them, crowd or no, you manage to nod agreement. Estinien's grin is feral as he snags a blanket from the booth and swaggers ahead to lead the way. Squeezing your elbow gently, Aymeric escorts you on the dragoon's trail. As the din of the crowd fades away and the sounds of the sea rise triumphant over the night, you cannot help but smile. For more than fame, more than glory, more than another night high on the pedestal of a hero-your heart is finally sated in the company of your Ishgardian loves.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing Ishgard Sandwich time here xD Hopefully it's just as fun to read!
> 
> Thanks as always to the [Bookclub discord](https://discord.gg/PvbG45u) for their infectious enthusiasm <3  
> If you're interested in chatting with FFXIV fic readers and writers alike, feel free to click the discord link and join in!


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